


An Accountant

by tagandtaylor



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Crack and Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27570442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tagandtaylor/pseuds/tagandtaylor
Summary: In the year 20 B.B.Y., Firmus Piett told a lie. He barely managed to keep it a secret. 24 years later, he fought against the galaxy to keep it that way. So, when he encounters Luke Skywalker while on a holiday with those he lied to, he's placed into yet another perilous situation that could end less than favorably should Lord Vader find out.a.k.a.: Piett tells his family he's an accountant, when he's actually an overworked Admiral that caters to the needs of a moody cyborg on the daily. This goes about as well as you'd think.
Relationships: Firmus Piett & Maximilian Veers, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker/Zevulon Veers, Maximilian Veers & Zevulon Veers
Comments: 38
Kudos: 143





	An Accountant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChaoticNeutral18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticNeutral18/gifts).



> Hi! So, this work is inspired by a lovely conversation I had with a few peeps on the New SW Discord! Also, by [this](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJxRU2Kt/) video. Poor Piett is too stressed for this. It's a good thing his sister is oblivious. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Piett struggled through the window, grunting as his feet hit the ground. Ouch. That went right to his ankles. He had always been called an old soul, but he wasn't that _old_ yet. 

He sighed, and stepped further into his bedroom, collapsing onto his bed. “Well,” he said to himself, “at least that's done.”  
  


“At least what's done?” asked a disembodied voice from the corner of the room. Piett jumped, clutching his chest with his hand. 

He exhaled in relief when his sister stepped out of the shadows. “Wilhelmina,” he exhaled. “Thank the Force, it's just you.”  
  


“What have you done, Firmus?” she asked. 

Piett blinked. “Nothing. Why do you assume that I’ve done something?”  
  


“You've always done something, little brother.”

“I'm only five minutes younger than you.”

“Yes, and those five minutes did wonders for my brain and clearly made a mess of yours. Sneaking through the window? Firmus, it’s midnight. Mother will have your hide.”

Piett frowned, rubbing his eyebrows. “I know,” he said. “I know, I just…”

“What were you doing?”

_Joining the navy._ “Signing up for accountant school,” he blurted out. Then, he winced. Shavit. That was _not_ what he meant to say. 

“Accountant school?”

“Yes.”  
  


“You're going to be an accountant?”

“... yes.”  
  


“That's odd. Just yesterday, you and I had a lovely conversation about how ludicrous your idea of joining the Navy was. I didn't think I'd managed to change your mind.”  
  


“You did,” Piett lied. Wilhelmina had been very against the idea of him joining the navy. She had said, he believed, that he would end up ‘dead in a ditch with the rest of the damned fools’. He thought she was wrong. It wasn't like he’d be working for Darth Vader.

“Good,” Wilhelmina nodded. “I'm glad I could get through to you. Joining the Navy wouldn't be good, Firmus. It would be horrendous for you, not to mention the low income. You wouldn't climb in the ranks like you wish you would, not with your backgro-”  
  


“I know, Wilhelmina,” he sighed. “You told me yesterday. And I believe you. I didn't join the navy.”

His sister nodded. “Good. Perhaps you’ve got half a brain after all.”  
  


She turned and walked down the hall. Piett sighed, and shouted after her, “That’s more than you can say!”

* * *

Piett kicked his feet back and sighed, fidgeting his thumbs. He glanced around, visibly on edge. He felt like something bad was going to happen, he just… didn't know what. 

“Would you quit it?” his sister sighed. “You look as if you’re expecting a raining storm of hail and fire to come down on us at any moment.”  
  


Piett glared at her. It was two months after Bespin. He was desperate to prove himself to Lord Vader; another failure wouldn't bode well. And what did his sister do?

She dragged him across the galaxy in order to take a ‘Vacation Week’ with her younger sons. 

Honestly, Piett wasn't sure that they were related. 

“Don't look so anxious,” she sighed, tipping her head back as she basked in the sun. “don't worry; this is a safe planet. I know you’re used to the safe little wonderland you call Coruscant, but really, Firmus, accept the non-city life. Take in the sun, take in the sand. ”

Piett dug his toe into the ground and grumbled, “I don't like sand.”  
  


“Yes, well, you clearly don't get enough time in the sand and the sun. Look at you! You’re as pale as a navy officer. You look like you spend more time in outer space than you do in the sun.”  
  


Piett stared at her. “You have no idea.”

She laughed. “Yes, I know, you’re a workaholic. I was able to discern that much, despite your limited details.”  
  


Piett sighed. It had been 24 years, and his sister still didn't know that he was not, in fact, an accountant. That being said, if he told her that he worked for Darth Vader, the man she called a ‘fanatical Sith Lord with a passion for choking people and an obsession with a blonde haired twink’, she would either refuse to believe him or beat him six ways to Sunday. 

He didn't exactly blame her.

“I told you,” he said, “I work on Coruscant.”

“No, Firmus, when I first asked you where you worked, you replied, and I quote, ‘ _Where accountants work.’_ ”

“Well, I do work where accountants work.” There were… _probably_ accountants on the Lady.

“I'm sure you do, Firmus. Now, let's discuss something other than our worrisome career choices, yes? They’re just a bit too sad.”

“Yes, well…” Piett trailed off mid sentence, his eyes focusing on someone in the distance. “Is that…?”

His sister glanced in the direction he was looking and tilted her head. “Who?”

“One moment, if you please,” Piett said, heaving himself off of the beach chair and walking across the sand, nearly trampling his nephews’ sand castle. 

“Firmus!” his sister called out after him. 

He ignored her and marched towards the man he had just barely caught sight of, gently pushing his way through the crowd. He got a better look at the boy’s face and groaned. Dammit. 

Standing about ten feet away with his feet buried in the sand was Luke Skywalker. 

* * *

_“Piett,”_ the Sith Lord sighed.

Piett nodded. “Yes, my lord. I can't tell you how happy I am to speak with y-”

“ _I believe I instructed you not to contact me whilst you were away.”_

_“_ Yes, but-”  
  


“ _Since you’ve no doubt realized this is a_ recording, _I will leniently remind you that I don't have time for your antics. You are to stay with your family for the remainder of your shore leave, and you will not go against this order again.”_ _  
  
_

The line cut off, and Piett’s jaw dropped. Well. Be like that then!  
  


Desperate, he keyed in Veers’ comm code. Please pick up, please pick up,” he whispered. 

Sure enough, Veers answered on the final ring. “Firmus,” he groaned. “I'm not sure what time it is where you are, but it’s 0300 hours on Denon. This had better be good.”  
  
“Luke Skywalker’s here,” he blurted out. “And I can't get him to the nearest Imperial outpost without worrying my family because it's over three hours away, not to mention the fact that he's lounging around on a very public beach and will not likely wish to go quietly.”  
  


Veers was silent for a moment. Finally, he sighed, and said, “Call Lord Vader,” before hanging up the comm. Piett groaned and called him again. Veers didn't answer. He called again, and his friend finally picked up the phone. 

“Firmus,” Veers said, in lieu of greeting. “I hope you understand that I am more than capable of ending both your life and career if you do not let me sleep.”

“Lord Vader blocked me,” Piett definitely did not whine.

“... I’ll comm him, then.”  
  


“Thank you.”  
  
Veers hung up, and called Piett back a minute later. “I, too, have been blocked.”  
  


“What? No.”  
  


“Yes. He said that I was supposed to be with my family. He didn't say that I should be asleep, which I should be.”

“Veers, I can't. I can't do this. I can't get him!”

“Just call the nearest Imperial outpost, they can take care of it. You’re on vacation.”

“It’s personal. Besides, Skywalker is an escape artist. And I can guarantee, Max, that no base around here would be equipped to handle a Jedi like him. He’ll get away, and then it'll be my head on a platter. Besides, if they make a scene, Skywalker could lash out. He's dangerous, and I won't allow my family to get hurt.”

“Then simply explain to your family that they have to leave.”  
  


“You’ve never met my sister.”

“Your point?”

“My point is that she would easily tear me apart and feed me to whatever beasts live in these waters before leaving here.”  
  


“Even if her sons were in danger?”

“Yes, well I can't exactly tell her that, can I?”

“Why not? You’re the Admiral of the Imperial Fleet, she’d trust you.”

“...”

“Firmus?”

“About that..”  
  


“What? Force, you’re acting as if she doesn't know.”

“Well…”  
  


“Firmus!”

“I know.”

“What does she think you do with your life? Where does she think you live?”

“She thinks I'm an accountant living on Coruscant.”  
  
“... well then. Time to come clean, don't you think? Tell your sister the truth and-”

“No! I can't. She'd burn me alive.”

“Your sister seems like a very violent woman.”  
  


“Yes, well she fought her way out of Mother’s uterus first, just like she fights her way through-”  
  


“Firmus, please, as entertaining as your numerous problems are, it’s 3:00 AM. I'm not mentally equipped to be your therapist. You truly can't tell her?”  
  


“No. Please, Max, you have to help me keep the secret!”

“Why? Wouldn't you rather not hide the truth? What will Wilhelmina do if you go missing, someday, with no explanation? Do you really want her to have to cope with your death and the fact that you lied to her for decades all at once?”

“No, of course not, but… I have no other choice. Wilhelmina was close to our mother, Max, really close. When she died… it broke her. She got very worried, ever since. Overbearing, practically. When I don't answer calls she acts as if I’ve been ignoring her in favor of risking my life for no reason.”  
  


“Which, I’m sure, is more than true some of the time, considering your occupation.”

“Of course, but other times I'm simply filling out expense reports or running the bridge, and I can't get back to her. She worries, Max, constantly, and she thinks I’m only an accountant. If she knew I was in the navy it would be so much worse. I cannot, in good conscience, do that to her.”

Veers sighed. “What planet are you on?”  
  


“Mir’aliah. It's a few hours from Denon.”  
  


Veers groaned, and Piett heard fabric rustling on the other side of the line. “You owe me my vacation days and ten hours of sleep.”  
  


“You're coming?”

“Well, clearly you can't be left to your own devices. Look at you, you’ve been without me for a day now and you’ve already gotten yourself into a web of lies.”

“I did that before I knew you existed.”  
  


“Yes, and that's the problem, isn't it? I'm on my way. Don't let Skywalker leave, and please, Firmus, consider telling your sister.”  
  


The dial tone sounded, and Piett sighed. It would be alright. He had backup. 

He walked back to the beach with a nod. 

He had backup. 

* * *

As Piett walked back towards the beach, he caught sight of Luke rolling up his beach towel and making for the exit. Piett swore, speed-walking towards the sand. “Hello,” he said, stepping in front of the exit.

Skywalker narrowed his eyes at him, slowing to a stop just before the two collided. “Hi…”  
  


“Firmus,” he said, holding out a hand. “You seem awfully ready to leave. What's the rush, if I may ask?”

Skywalker stepped back, his hands tightening on his rolled up towel. “Me and my fiancé are meeting up in a few minutes. He'll be worried if I don't make it.”  
  


Piett filed the information away in his brain. It was, of course, a lie. Skywalker wasn't in a relationship with anyone. “Surely you can spare a few minutes?” Or, really, an hour. Veers wouldn't arrive until midday. It was still the middle of the morning. 

“I can't stretch it,” Luke said. Sorry.”

He made to pass him by, but Piett’s sister chose that moment to intervene.

“Firmus Alfred Piett!” she sighed, walking over to the two with her hands on her hips. “Where the hell have you been?”

Luke blinked, looking back at him. “Piett?”  
  


“Yes,” Piett deadpanned, looking him straight in the eyes. 

“Funny. Some Imperial Admiral has that name, too.”

“No relation,” Wilhelmina shrugged, oblivious to the tension between the two. “We heard about that guy, in the news, but it’s just a coincidence. My brother is an accountant. It’s a bit ironic though, wouldn't you say?”

“Very ironic,” Piett said. 

“You have no idea,” Luke said. 

“Who is this, Firmus?” WIlhelmina asked. “Another accountant?”

Piett blinked, an opportunity arising. He didn't exactly want Skywalker any closer to his family than necessary, but this might be his only chance to keep the Jedi around. “Yes, actually,” he said. Skywalker’s eyes snapped to him. “Luke is a junior associate at the firm on Coruscant. I wasn't expecting to see him here.”  
  


“I wasn't expecting to see Piett, either,” Luke said, still not making eye contact with Wilhelmina. “Surprises all around, huh?”

“Apparently.”  
  


Wilhelmina glanced between the two and sighed. “Come back in a few minutes, Firmus,” she said, marching back towards their place on the beach. “And bring your friend.”  
  


“You’ve got it!” Piett called back to her, triumph winning over his tone. 

Luke took a step back. “You…”

“Know exactly who you are,” Piett nodded. Skywalker was silent for a moment, so Piett continued, “You aren't getting out of here, Skywalker. I won't allow it.”

“Yeah, I figured that part out myself,” he spat, crossing his arms over his chest. “You realize that you probably can't stop me.”

“Probably?”

Luke looked him up and down, a scrutinizing frown on his face. “You’re pretty short. I can take you.”  
  


Piett gaped at him, opening and closing his mouth once before responding. “You cannot.”  
  


“Yes, I can.”

“No.”  
  


“Really? If you’re so confident in your abilities, then why did your sister ask if I was from an accounting firm?”

Piett flinched, desperate to keep up his menacing demeanor. “That is nothing for you to concern yourself with.”  
  


“... Does your family think that you’re an accountant?”

Piett’s silence was answer enough. 

Luke shook his head with a sigh. “You should really tell them. It's not nice to hide things from people you care about.”

“You have no right to tell me anything about family, rebel. Not when the people you follow so clearly have forsaken their own.” 

Luke blinked, and cocked his head. “Oh. You’re friends with General Veers, aren't you?”

Piett tensed up, protective instincts flaring inside of him. “Why do you want to know?”

Luke twiddled with a ring that sat on his left thumb. “No reason.”  
  


“Regardless, you aren't leaving here. Not without your hands in binders.”  
  


“Listen, I don't want to hurt you, I-”

“Really? Well, you clearly didn't feel the same about all the people on the Death Star.”  
  


Luke flinched, his hands clenched into fists. “I really don't want to hurt you, but you have to let me go.”  
  


“I'm sorry, Skywalker, but I'm afraid that's not an option.”

Their conversation was cut off when Wilhelmina shouted, “Firmus! Get over here.”

Piett rolled his eyes. Luke shrugged. “By all means, go. Be with your family.”

Piett glanced back at his sister, then to Luke. “You're coming with me,” he said, after a moment of internal debate. Skywalker couldn't do anything in front of the crowd. He couldn't do anything. His family would be safe. 

“No,” Luke said, as Piett grabbed onto his arm.

“If you don't come with me, I'll tell everyone on this beach who you really are.”  
  


“You wouldn't.”  
  


“Why not?”

“Because… because I'd tell your family who you are,” Skywalker said. Piett paused for a moment. 

“You’re bluffing.”  
  


“Am I?”

“I'm an Imperial Admiral, Skywalker. I know when people are lying.”

“Are you sure about that? No offense, or anything, but if your sister still doesn't know that you’ve spent the past however many years working on your military career, I don't think your family has the greatest track record at sniffing out lies.”

“I find your lack of faith disturbing.”

“Ooh, nice Vader impression. Solid A+, but you should work on the delivery. There's a whole finger wagging thing that's supposed to go with it. Try again, but this time make me feel like you’re scolding me for being a disappointment to our family.”  
  
Piett blinked, sighed, shook his head, and continued on towards his sister, dragging Luke behind him. 

* * *

“We’re colleagues,” Piett explained. 

“What's colleagues?” his nephew, Helios, asked. 

“We work together,” Luke explained. “In some cases, we work against each other.”  
  


“Oh,” Piett hummed, elbowing him, “it happens more often than you’d think. 

Luke chuckled, and kicked a bit of sand at the Imperial. “Oh, but it’s all fun and games.”

“Accountants are boring,” complained his other nephew, Cratos. 

Luke grinned. “Oh, I agree. But don't worry; our jobs are far from boring.” Piett elbowed him again, but Skywalker ignored him. “Did you know that your uncle is actually-”

Piett elbowed him again, and cleared his throat. 

“Are you alright, Firmus?” his sister asked. “Do you have something to say?”

“No,” he grumbled. 

  
“That’s what I thought. Now, Luke dear, you’re a bit young for all this accounting business. Don't you think you should be out seeing the galaxy?”

“Well, I do still see a lot of the galaxy ma’am,” Luke laughed nervously. “And yes, I'm young, but I'm good at what I do.”

“Oh, yes,” Piett agreed. “He’s a genius when it comes to getting out of tricky situations. Not all of them, of course.”  
  


“Most of them.”  
  


“But not all.”  
  


“Of course.”

Wilhelmina raised an eyebrow, then shook her head. “Well,” she sighed, “I can't claim to understand this whole ‘accounting’ business, but it’s better than running off and joining the navy. Can you believe that Firmus _actually_ wanted to join the navy?”  
  


“Well, it’s better than the Rebellion,” Piett said, staring Luke directly in the eyes. 

“Force, I hate that old Rebellion,” Luke said without any real heat. 

“So, do you two work together often?” she asked, breaking their eye contact. 

“Yes,” Luke said. 

“Really? I'm told Firmus works at a very large accounting firm. The only people he very frequently works with are his boss and his assistant.”

“Uh,” Luke panicked, “I'm his boss's son.”  
  


Piett blinked. _What._ For a moment, the idea of Darth Vader fathering a child crossed his mind, and he shivered. He shoved the feeling away, and dismissed it without another thought. Skywalker must be thinking of Zev Veers. 

“Oh,” Wilhelmina blinked. She shared a glance with Firmus, a question clear in her eyes. _Nepotism?_

Piett said, “Luke joined the firm years ago, but he just realized his heritage recently. He didn't know that his father was even alive.”  
  


“Oh, my. That must’ve been very difficult for you.”  
  


Luke chuckled. “You have _no idea_.”

Piett very studiously ignored the knowing tone of Skywalker’s voice. Something told him there was something hidden in his expression, but truthfully, the Admiral didn’t have the mental capacity to over analyze the Jedi’s troubling phrasing. 

“Well,” Luke cleared his throat, “it’s been lovely, but I really should be going. My fiancé doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

“Oh, stay for a while,” Piett said, cutting off Wilhelmina’s agreement. “He's a patient man, he can wait.”  
  


Luke tensed up and opened his mouth to reply, but Wilhelmina hushed him. “Firmus, dear, let him go. Young love is so sweet, isn't it?”  
  


Luke made an awkward expression and nodded. “Agreed. I’ll see you later, Piett.”

“Sure you will,” Piett glared at him. He couldn't let Skywalker get away, but he didn't have any other choice in the matter. He glanced up at the sky and noticed that the sun was glaring down upon him. Veers should be there soon. 

“Now, Luke, let’s not be too hasty,” said a familiar voice from behind them. Piett whipped around and exhaled in relief when he saw Veers standing tall behind them. “Surely, he can wait.”

Luke nearly swore, but caught his tongue as Wilhelmina gave him a curious glance. “Kriff,” he mumbled, grinding his teeth together. 

“Max, I couldn't be happier to see you here,” Piett grinned. 

“Oh, aren't we both so overjoyed,” Luke sarcastically slumped further against the chair. 

Veers was dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a lightweight shirt. Piett scrunched his nose up at him. “I'm not used to seeing you out of uniform.”  
  


Wilhelmina raised a brow, and Piett hastily corrected, “Your suit, I mean.”

“Of course,” Veers nodded. “The same goes for you. I must ask, though, how long have you been holding out on me? I didn't know there would be a whole company vacation here at once. You, me, Luke? Why, it would be a miracle if Lord V… our boss didn't show up. I truly wasn't expecting to see all of you.”

  
  
Luke scowled. “Believe me, neither was I.”  
  


Piett elbowed him and said, “It's all a coincidence, I'm sure.”

“It must be,” Wilhelmina said. She glared at Piett, crossing his arms over her chest. “The only other thing it could be is an idiotic attempt to do work while on vacation.”  
  


Piett glanced at Skywalker, who laughed to himself. “Y’know,” the Jedi said, “Piett has always been very committed to his job, though maybe not in the way you think. He’s actually-”

“I think,” Veers said loudly, people on the beach around him giving him a curious stare, “that Luke is right. He should really go find his fiance.”  
  


He nodded to Piett, who let out a relieved sigh. “Well, goodbye, then,” Wilhelmina muttered as Veers snatched Luke’s elbow and dragged him out of his seat.

“Goodbye,” Veers nodded. Luke dug his heels into the sand, but Veers just dragged him along, pushing him off the beach. 

“Listen up, Skywalker, because I'm only going to say this once,” Veers growled, spinning Luke around to face him. “You are going to get on my shuttle, follow me to the nearest outpost, and come without a struggle. We will call Lord Vader and send you off to whatever public execution surely awaits you. If you make a scene, everyone on this beach will identify you as the boy who murdered hundreds of thousands of people with a single shot, and then you’ll truly be in trouble. We haven't forgotten the Death Star. No one has.”

“Neither have I.”

Veers held back the urge to scold the child. Did he truly think he understood the suffering he had forced upon the families of all those he killed? Veers held his tongue. It wouldn't do him any good to throw down with the Jedi. Instead, he opted for a guilt trip. “If you make any attempt to remind us of the extent of your powers, countless innocents on that beach will be caught in the crossfire. You may be an aimless terrorist with no concept of the true greater good, but could you truly stomach the death of all those children?”

Luke followed Veers’ pointed finger as he motioned towards the beach. “I wouldn't hurt kids. Besides, not all rebels are bad people. Don't you know that? Or do you really have so little faith in your son?”  
  


Veers clenched his hand into a fist, using all of his self control to stop himself from striking Skywalker across the face. Alive and unharmed. Vader wanted him alive and unharmed. Veers knew what would happen if he didn't follow those orders; he had seen what Vader did to those who so much as threatened Skywalker. The Sith wouldn't take it lightly if Veers started a fight. 

“You don't know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Because I know which one of us spent more time with Zev in the past four years, and it certainly wasn't you.”  
  


“You may be a Jedi, Skywalker, but I’ve been training in the Army for longer than you’ve been alive. I've witnessed the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Empire, and I know full well what side I'm on. You’ve only ever seen the world from one point of view. Do you really want to start this fight?”

“It’s one against one. I'd say that’s pretty fair…” Luke trailed off as he noticed someone step up behind Veers. 

“Actually,” Zev said, tapping lightly on his shoulder, “it’s two against one.”

* * *

“You’re back!” Piett’s nephew exclaimed. 

“Yep,” Luke said with a forced grin. 

“I thought you were going to meet with your fiancé?” Wilhelmina asked. 

“Yes,” Piett said, glaring at Veers, “so did I.”  
  


“Well,” Zev sighed, stepping out from behind his father, “we found each other, and my father _very clearly_ wished to come back. I'm guessing he felt _outnumbered._ ”

“Father?” Piett questioned.

“I'm Zev Veers,” he said, holding a hand out to Wilhelmina. “Nice to meet you.”

“Veers?” she questioned. “As in the army general?”

Zev blinked, his eyes darting to his father, then back to her. “No,” he lied smoothly. “Sorry, I misspoke. Beers. Zev Beers.”  
  


Luke snorted, and covered it up with a cough. “Yes, that is your name.”  
  


Veers pinched the bridge of his nose in pure disappointment. Honestly, he woke up in the morning and chose terrorism, the least he could do would be to learn how to lie. “He’s my son,” he sighed. “May we sit?”

“There's only two chairs, sir,” Luke said. “There isn't room for Zev and I, I don't think. Maybe we should g-”

“No,” Piett yelped. Wilhelmina blinked. 

“Excuse my twin, he's got terrible manners. What he _means to say_ is that we’d love to have you stay for a moment, Luke. Tell me, how did you two meet?”

“Our parents work together,” Zev replied. “Of course, we didn't know that when we first met, but it certainly solidified things.”  
  


Luke nodded, twisting the ring on his finger. “Yeah,” he said lamely. “It did.”

“And you’re engaged, yes? How long have you been together?”  
  


“They aren't,” Veers replied with certainty. 

At the same time, Zev and Luke said in unison, “Three years.”  
  


Veers blinked. He would know if his son had gotten engaged. That had to have been rehearsed. Right?

Right?

… right?

Wilhelmina laughed. “That's excellent. When’s your anniversary?”

“Next month,” Zev said, intertwining his and Luke’s hands. He sat down beside his father and yanked Luke onto his lap with an oomph. Wilhelmina grinned. Veers panicked. 

“Any plans for the wedding date?” he asked, his tone strangled. 

Zev nudged Luke, who told him, “Not yet. We want to do something private; just family and a few friends.”

Veers grinned, triumph blooming inside of him. “Really? Zev always told me he wanted a big wedding.” Surely, if the two were _really_ together, Skywalker would know that.  
  


“That was before I joined that… club that me and Luke are in,” Zev said. Veers rolled his eyes. Could the implications of that be any clearer? “Now, I want to keep things private. Besides, there's no use in having a big wedding during war times.”

“I understand,” Wilhelmina said. “Times are tough.”

“Little things can make them better,” Zev squeezed Luke’s hand. 

Wilhelmina cooed. Piett and Veers shared a look of overwhelming anxiety as Veers turned away to gag. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “We’ve been talking too much about ourselves. What about you, Wilhelmina? What do you do?”  
  


“Oh, I'm nothing special. I'm an outer-galactic archaeologist, so I study artifacts from other galaxies.”

“That’s awesome!” Luke explained. “I'm from the outer rim, so every now and then some old books or weird rocks would show up in orbit. Tatooine was one of the closest planets to the Other-Worlds, so we would find a few things every now and then.”

“Really? What did you find?”

“There was a book we found, once, that had actual paper pages still intact. We had to sell it, because we were in a rough place, but it was really cool. We found an old DVD, too, about some story called ‘Star Wars’, but we didn't have any machines that could play the recording, so we were never sure what it was about.”

“Tell them about the rock,” Zev said, nudging Luke with his knee.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, his eyes widening. “Give me your ring.”

Veers raised a brow as Zev tugged a ring off his finger. It looked strangely like the one Luke had, but he quickly dismissed the thought. No. No, thank you. His son would not date a Jedi. Sure, Veers had failed him, but he knew that he hadn't failed him _that much_ . Skywalker was probably the one person Vader wanted dead more than anyone else in the galaxy. Zev was an idiot child, but he was _Veers’_ idiot child. He had to have _some_ self preservation instincts. 

Luke leaned across Piett’s chair, violating the Admiral’s personal space. Piett held back a sneeze as the Jedi’s blonde hair tickled his nose. Luke reached over to hand the ring to Wilhelmina, who took it with a curious frown. 

“What's this?” she asked. 

“So, the ring itself is made of durasteel, but the stone in the middle came from the Other-Worlds. I had it since I was really little. Me and my friend Biggs found a huge chunk of it in Beggar's Canyon when I was like, six.”

She examined the stone closely, then raised an eyebrow. “Oh, my.”

“What?”

“Nothing, dear. So, was it originally this size?”

“No, it was bigger, but I had it cut down for the ring.”

“He didn't want it to look too gaudy,” Zev said fondly. 

Veers ignored that comment. They were simply trying to cover up the truth about their identities; Skywalker was _not_ engaged to his son. He simply was not. 

As he was wrapping himself further into his denial, Luke and Zev had been gazing stupidly into one another’s eyes. Zev heaved Luke up off of Piett’s lap, and tilted his chin down, pressing his lips to the Jedi’s. Veers blinked. Oh. They were kissing now. 

Ha. Ha ha. Just four years ago, he had believed he'd never see his son again outside of an interrogation room or a battlefield. Now, he was staring at him, sitting on a beach, with a terrorist on his lap, making out after professing their love for each other. 

And thus began the start of his mental crisis. 

“Piett,” he said, his voice coming out harsher than he intended. “A word?”

Piett, who was also staring at the lovestruck couple sitting beside him, coughed. “Max, I'm s… well, I wouldn't want to leave them alone…”  
  


“Oh, I'm sure your sister is perfectly capable of watching them.”  
  


Wilhelmina sighed. “Go ahead, boys.”  
  


“We aren't children, Wilhelmina.”

“Hush, Firmus. Run along. I'll watch your children.”  
  


Piett blinked. “Oh, I'm not responsible for those two.”  
  


“No,” Veers said, “but, much to my regret, I am. Piett. A word?”

Piett stood, toeing on his flip flops and leading Veers away from the beach. There was a small clubhouse near the exit, where Piett dragged Veers as the two swore vehemently. 

“Max, I am so sorry,” Piett said. 

Veers shook off his hand, which was clasped on his shoulder. “I'm fine. We need to get them out of here. They’re a danger to the civilians.”

“I… I'm not worried about the civilians, I'm worried about y-”

“Don't. It’s fine. I just… I shouldn't be surprised.”

“Yes, you should be. Your son is dating a-”

“No, thank you. We don't know that, yet.”

“Veers, they just made out on a beach!”

“Plausible deniability.”  
  


“That doesn't apply here!”

“They could've been faking it for your sister.”

“They are not that committed to keeping my secret.”  
  


Veers quieted himself, clenching his hands into fists at his side. He inhaled, then exhaled, then shook out his hands. “It can't be true, Firmus.”

“They have matching rings. What else could it be?”

“It can't be.”  
  


“Max, I-”

“No. No, Firmus, you don't understand.”

“Then explain it instead of lashing out! Interactions like this, Max, are why the members of the army are painted as bundles of suppressed emotions.”

Veers glared at him. “I lost my son. He didn't die, but I lost him. I knew, four years ago, that I would never see him again. Not in the same way. Losing that, losing him, was the worst feeling in the world. My guts felt like they were being ripped out of my stomach; I felt as if I couldn't breathe. My heart stopped working. And don't look at me that way. Don't look at me like you understand, because you don't. You don't understand losing the light of your kriffing life, and you don't understand knowing that it was your fault.”  
  


“It was _not_ your f-”

“Yes, Admiral, it was. He joined the Rebellion, he committed treason, and he left his family, all because I couldn't show him what was right. All because I couldn't help him. And this? This… engagement? It doesn't bode well for either of our futures. He doesn't understand the risks he's taking, here. He has no regard for his livelihood! He clearly didn't stop to ponder the idea that I wouldn't want him on the ground with his neck snapped all because he couldn't stay away from a Jedi!”

As he spoke, Veers’ voice steadily increased in volume, getting louder and louder with every breath. By the end of his rant, the club members' eyes were all on them. Piett awkwardly smiled. “Excuse us,” he said. He hooked his arm through Veers’ and led him out of the club. “Well, we can never go there again.”

“Firmus, I-”

“No, Max, don't apologize.”  
  


“Firmus, they’re-”

“I mean it!”

“Firmus, I _said_ th-”  
  


“Would you shut your mouth and listen to me for once?” Piett snapped, his Outer Rim accent coming to light. “I'm sorry, Max, that you lost Zev, I truly am. But that does not warrant you acting like a buffoon and blaming yourself for all that was entirely out of control. Zev had his own ideas and beliefs, and you couldn't have expected to change that! I know you miss him, I know, but you can't let your regrets color your views of the current situation.”

“Are you done?”

“No!”

“...”

“Thank you for telling me. Now I'm done.”

“Well, firstly, thank you.”  
  


“You’re welcome.”

“Secondly, you truly should’ve compacted that into a much shorter rant, because they disappeared.”  
  


“What.”  
  


Veers gestured helplessly behind Piett. The Admiral whipped around to study the beach, and, sure enough, Luke and Zev were missing. 

Piett sighed. “Well, that will teach us to be open about our emotions.”

* * *

  
Luke watched the water-covered planet disappear as the ship jumped to hyperspeed, sighing as he left it behind. “Well,” he told Zev, “it was fun while it lasted.”  
  


“Yeah,” Zev agreed. “The ending left much to be desired.”  
  


Luke sighed and sat down in the pilots seat,, curling in on himself. “I'm sorry,” he told Zev. “I know you wanted to tell your dad the truth.”  
  


“Yeah, well. It wasn't exactly an option, was it?”

“It will be soon! We just have to wait a bit. Once my father tells him, this whole thing will be ten times easier.”  
  


“For you, maybe. I still have to talk to him.”  
  


“I'm sorry.”  
  


“It isn't your fault.”  
  


“I'm sorry, who accidentally got us involved in a treasonous plot to overthrow Palpatine from the inside with my father working secretly with us?”

“That would be you.”  
  


“Yes. And so, I am sorry.”  
  


“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You should tell your father what happened. I'm guessing Piett’s called and given him a heart attack.”

Luke opened his mouth to respond, then flinched as Vader called out to him across their bond. “Actually, Veers told him.”

* * *

“My Lord,” Piett nodded, “I'm sorry to say that we were unable to-”

“You need not explain yourself to me, Admiral,” Vader said. “I am fully aware of the situation.”  
  


The door opened, and Wilhelmina marched through, her eyes on the holo at her wrist. “Firmus, did you know that-” she cut herself off at the sight of Piett, Veers, and Vader. She started at the Sith. He stared back. “Piett, _what_ have we said about bringing the second in command of the Empire into my home without telling me first?”

PIett cleared his throat. “Uhm, to _not_ do it.”  
  


“Yes, and what have you done?”  
  


“You needn't worry,” Vader said. “I am not Darth Vader.”

Veers blinked. “No?”

“I am Piett’s boss.”

“Really?” she asked. “Piett never mentioned your resemblance to Darth Vader.”  
  


“I was in an accident many years ago. This is simply my life support system. Any resemblance to Darth Vader is most unfortunate.”  
  


Wilhelmina raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. In fact, I strongly believe that Darth Vader is…” he paused, as if listening to a voice inside his head. He ground his teeth together and said, “Darth Vader is _sus,_ and we must vote him out.”  
  


Cratos leaned into the doorway with a grin. “You play among us?!”

“N- yes.”

“Wizard! Can we play together sometime?”

“Oh, there's no need for that,” Piett said, his voice an octave higher than normal. 

“Why not? He's cool! And Mom’s right, he looks like Darth Vader. How many times have I told you, Darth Vader is the coolest dude in the galaxy!” He sighed and turned to Vader, saying, “Sorry, my uncle’s a boring accountant. Can we play among us sometime?”

* * *

Five minutes later, Veers and Piett were boarding Vader’s shuttle, hot on his heels. The Sith went into the cockpit, and the officers sagged in relief. 

“Who the hell taught Vader the Language of Child?!” Piett hissed. “Do you have any idea how long I've been trying to learn the Language of Child so I can communicate with those heathens my sister calls children?!”

“I don't know, and I'm too scared to think about it,” Veers replied. 

“He knew _everything_ . He knew about Luke, he knew about Zev! How did he-”  
  


“I don't know!”

“Force, this is almost as odd as Skywalker calling our boss his father.”  
  


Veers paused, dread welling up inside of him. “Wait. A kriffing. Minute.”  
  


* * *

Luke sighed, slouching against the back of his chair. “That was a day well spent.”  
  


“Luke, you have _got_ to stop doing that. You’re a bad influence on your Sith Lord father.”

“I wouldn't say I'm a bad influence.”  
  


“You just convinced Darth Vader to call himself ‘sus’ and to say that he should be voted out. I'm pretty sure that’s some other form of treason we hadn't even discovered until today.”  
  


“Yes, well. If you want to get technical, Vader isn't the one who should be voted out. Palpatine’s sus as hells. We have to get him spaced.”  
  


“You did _not_ just use Among Us as a metaphor for murdering the Emperor of the entire galaxy.”

“Yes, I did.”

“I love you.”  
  


“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I haven't started the next part yet but I have a very vague idea of what I want to happen, so we'll see how that goes. Also, since I HC Piett's sister being super into stuff from other worlds, so her sons are named after two lesser known Greek gods, which was fun to research. 
> 
> Comment and tell me your favorite part if you want! 
> 
> (p.s.: be happy)


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